Forsake
by Second Harrier
Summary: Heroes are expecting to sacrifice what they cherish and accept what they lose. Even of them, however, there is such a thing as asking too much.


Forsake

By Second Harrier

From her throne room, high above, she could _see_ the city burning.

From her throne room, high above, she could _hear_ the castle falling.

Sitting- nearly slouching- on her tall, gilded seat, Zelda wondered how it had come to this. Not wondered _how_, actually; not really, because she knew the _how_. She'd watched the _how_ unfold for months in brief glimpses, glimpses that had filled her first with faint discontent, then with concern, then with alarm, and now, finally, with mute horror.

For that matter, she knew the _why_ too, in part- it would have taken less Wisdom than hers to realize it, having seen all she'd seen and knowing all she knew. What she couldn't comprehend, what eluded her even here at the climax, was the greater _why_, the _why_ that could only be asked of the goddesses and of the universe. This was one of those _whys_ most Hylians, and most folk everywhere, were comfortable living their lives without. She was Princess Zelda, however- bearer of the Triforce of Wisdom. Such _whys_ were her business, but here and now, she was completely lost.

The huge wooden doors, so recently repaired, shuddered in a painfully familiar way. Then they blew apart, and one of her knights bounced twice on the long blue carpet before stilling, helmet ajar just enough to let his open, empty eyes catch the stormy orange twilight. Twilight- it was _twilight_. How fitting. How cruel.

Rising from her throne, Zelda breathed in slowly through her nose, and let the air filter noiselessly out of her barely open mouth. Her hands drifted down toward her waist, then stacked themselves gently, one atop the other. As she readied her mind and blood for the magic she would soon need, she wondered why she had chosen the lower audience chamber in which to sit and wait. She could have received her visitor- _not my guest_- in the higher throne room, the one open to the sky. Then she concluded that the choice had been made of impatience. It was time for things to happen as they would. Perhaps the answers she sought would come to her now.

Of course, this was also where she had made her previous defense of the throne. The room had been chosen for security, then- she was simply nostalgic, manufacturing sameness in the face of such terrifying difference.

As the smoke cleared around the blasted wood, _he_ grew visible, standing at the ruined doorway as if waiting to be invited in. Is that what he expected? Maybe he hadn't changed so much. Maybe he hadn't really changed at all. Zelda reached the steps to her throne and began descending, never taking her eyes off the dark silhouette.

Taking his cue from her, he walked slowly into the high chamber. "I didn't want to kill him, really. I didn't want to kill any of them. But the look in his eyes- that gleam… I know someone ready to fight to the death when I see them. And I didn't have the time to keep him down any other way. I'm done waiting. I'm done _hurting_ over this."

Zelda reached the last step and stopped. "Link…"

He looked at her for the first time, and in the bloody orange of the twilight he was both a complete stranger and exactly the same. He was maybe a little taller than he'd been when she last saw him: when she'd tried to help him, and then seen in his eyes that he was beyond her powers to heal. Perhaps a little broader in the shoulders, too, though that could have been his clothing: he wore heavy armor of a strange make, creased down every center with a raised spine, colored dark bronze. What fabric she could see underneath it was a dark color, likely black. A heavy black cloak was draped over his shoulders, and fanned out behind him like wings as he walked forward, boots tramping hard on the floor. On his head, like a vulgar joke, he wore a tasseled cap of the same style as the Hero's, but colored black. His hair beneath it was still unkempt and colored dirty gold. His face was still far too young for the troubles and pain it had seen. His eyes were still deep, wild blue. He was still feral.

Yet as he met her gaze… something about him had changed, especially in those eyes. They were still wild, but somehow they were _calculating_ at the same time. They focused on her, and she felt like she was being set up for an ambush. He was still feral, but he seemed now less a wolf, and more… a leopard. A panther. Some stalking, cunning cat.

"You know why I'm here," Link said quietly.

"I have an idea," Zelda returned, her tone perfectly neutral.

He just stared at her for a minute. He still seemed to prefer silence to speaking. "Please… give me what I came for, and this can all be over."

She couldn't keep from feeling sad, even as she hardened her resolve. "A part of me wishes that I could. I also wish that making things right for you were that simple." She parted her hands and dropped them to her sides, fingertips beginning to sparkle. "Neither is the case, however. You will not get what you want this way, Link, and I will not help you in your error."

Link merely nodded, and a swivel of his wrist raised the sword in his left hand. It was long and broad, a powerful weapon; the blade was stained black, and golden runes were stained up and down its face. He began to stalk forward, taking long strides.

Zelda raised a final prayer to the goddesses as she moved to attack her friend, her ally, her _Hero_- the Triforce bearer with whom she was supposed to cooperate, not clash. They had defeated their enemy together, and the story had ended happily. That was how it was supposed to go. Only this time, the happiness had been tainted by loss and heartbreak, and from there, everything had fallen apart. So she swirled her arms in golden streaks to strike down the enemy who was really a friend, who seemed to want this even less than she-

Link did not wait for her to finish her spell, or even to come anywhere near her before he struck. He swung his sword in a long horizontal arc, and from the blade a band of snapping black energy erupted and sailed through the air; stone chipped and glass shattered as it widened and spread. Before Zelda could realize that _Link_ was using _magic_ against her, she was caught, and the force of the blast flung her back against the stairs, the impact only garnishing the stinging, burning agony of her foe's attack. Somehow she remained conscious, and with quaking arms she raised herself up on the stairs. Blood began to trickle from the side of her mouth. When she steadied her head enough to look forward, Link was still walking, sword crackling in his hand.

"The Gerudo live underground now," he said, eyes hardened with resolve. "They moved below ground over a century ago, and now they live in a network of caves that runs from the Mesa all under the desert- even beneath the Arbiter's Grounds. It took me a while to find a way down there, even after I'd decided it was real. Once I'd done that, though, it was easy to find the baby boy- the _only_ baby boy."

Zelda had suspected all through the day, as the Hylian Knights defending the city had fallen to an unstoppable swordsman in black and the shadowy monsters with him. To hear it proved, though- to _feel_ the truth still faintly scorching her body- seemed to drain her resolve in a single instant. Link stopped just in front of her, and she watched, trembling, as he raised his right arm, the back of his fist straight upright. Through the skin, through the thick leather of his bracer, _two_ segments of the Triforce symbol flashed- the top triangle, and the one beneath it on the right. She felt herself on the verge of tears.

"I don't have to kill you, though," Link said. He sheathed his sword in a single twirl of motion, and knelt down to look her in the eyes. "There's a way- I've learned a spell that will let me take your Triforce piece from you, even if you resist. I don't think even Ganondorf knew it." He smiled gently, trying to comfort her even after attacking her. "As long as you're weakened, it should work. That's why I had to hurt you." His right arm stretched towards her.

Her skin raw and weak beneath her clothes, Zelda tried to twist away from him. Every muscle felt like lead. "Link…" she whispered, unable to speak louder. "Link… please don't. Think of everyone who loves you…"

Link's arm stopped, and he started to tremble. His face twisted with pain. "Who… loves me? **Who?!** Who loves me as I am- as what I came back as?! Who even _knows_ me?!" The outstretched arm was shaking violently; he clenched the hand into a fist. "There are only two people who know me now," and he stared at her again, his violent eyes locked to hers. "And only one person… **loves** me."

The pain from Link's attack seemed to have subsided, but Zelda was still exhausted, and the _grief_ pouring out of the twisted Hero's soul birthed a whole new agony in her chest. Her eyes began to moisten, but as Link's hand moved closer yet again, she forced herself to try again. "Midna would not want these things done in her name, Link. Would you destroy what she… what _both_ of you gave so much to save?" _What you gave each other up to save?_

She wondered if Link sensed the unspoken end- the true end. Briefly, his hand stopped, this time much closer. The two of them breathed in, and then out, in perfect synchronization. Then Link's arm moved swift, and his hand was squeezing her right bicep. His head moved closer to hers, his face utterly miserable. "Princess… have you ever been in love?" he asked. His voice was quiet and thin. "I don't mean just an attraction to someone… or a deep friendship… really in love." The ghost of a smile appeared on his face. "Uli… used to tell me that loving someone, _really_ loving them was like having a whole other part of you created- like there was more to you than _you_ when you loved. You were yourself, but you were also something else- something that was also that person you loved, and they were themselves but also something that was you, who they loved. The two of you were more than yourselves… your love made you something else… together." Link was on the verge of sobbing once… twice… then he stopped. The ghostly smile vanished, burned away by the rage suddenly blazing in the Hero's blue eyes. Pain spiked through Zelda's arm, and when she looked she saw that Link was tightly clenching it. He began to breathe heavily. "She was wrong, though, at least for _me_. Love doesn't make you **more** than yourself… it makes you… **less.** A part of you isn't in _you_ anymore… it's with someone else. You're only whole when you're _with_ them… and… when they're _gone_… you're not." He was breathing hot and hard, blowing her bangs around. "I was ripped apart, Zelda. We were **both** ripped apart, and I can't live with it. I've tried but I **can't**. I have to have her back." He took his hand off her arm and pressed it against her chest. "And I'll burn the whole world if that's what it takes."

Zelda squirmed as she realized what was happening, but it was useless. Link muttered swiftly in a strange, flowing language, and the bones of his hand suddenly flashed black beneath skin and armor. Zelda arched her back as energy wound through her like a thousand coiling snakes, a million squid's arms, twisting, wrapping, grasping, and _taking_. There was no pain in her body- but there was another presence where only hers should have been, and it grasped at something deep in her soul that only she should have been able to touch.

Then it was over, and Link removed his hand. Zelda fell back against the steps, and her previous bouts of fidgeting had so compromised her position that she immediately twisted and slid. She rolled down the rest of the stairs and thudded to the hard marble floor on her side. She had no energy to move.

Rising to his feet, Link turned his right hand over. There, on the back of the gauntlet, the full Triforce blazed brilliant gold; in its divine radiance his face looked faintly sinister, but mostly tired and worn. He looked _wounded_. He pivoted on his feet, black cape swirling gently, to look at Zelda. His eyes filled with tears. "I'm so sorry," he said, knowing how useless it was. Turning yet again, he stretched his right arm toward the broken chamber doors, the back of his hand facing out, and he could _feel_ the power buried beneath all space and all time. It heard his call. It responded, streaming white light through the symbol on his hand.

It began to arrive.

"She will **hate** you for this, Link!"

He turned his head. Zelda was staring straight at him, blue-gray eyes sharp and severe as crystals. Tears were pouring from them at the corners, and the blood on her chin had dried to a cracked brown smear.

Link turned completely around, even as the air erupted with golden light at his back. Two tears ran down his cheeks, and he _smiled_- the brightest, realest smile Zelda had seen from him in more than a year. "To have her **here**, hating me… would be the most beautiful thing in the world."

Her heart broke. He turned away.

The Triforce, the real _Triforce_, hung in the air a few steps ahead of him. Divinity synthesized. Supreme power made tangible.

He reached for it.

"BEND TO MY WILL, GODDESSES!"

With the last of her strength Zelda twisted onto her stomach, shoving her face to the ground so she would not have to see, her shoulders wracked with sobs.

"**GIVE ME BACK MY TWILIGHT PRINCESS!**"


End file.
